


it feels like fate, like destiny

by madandimpossible



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ben Solo Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Dark Rey (Star Wars), Dark Side Rey, F/M, Protective Ben Solo, Sith Rey, Smuggler Ben Solo, Whether Rey is a Palpatine or not is up to you...I left it vague lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22872613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madandimpossible/pseuds/madandimpossible
Summary: The Awakening – for Ben Solo – never came. He was not Force-Sensitive. And The First Order comes into power with a mysterious woman named Rey leading them.As Han Solo would say, "I have a bad feeling about this."
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	it feels like fate, like destiny

When Leia Organa-Solo held her son for the first time, she looked down into those impossibly dark brown eyes and smiled.

She waited to feel the shift in the Force.

A year passed.

Then another, and another, and her Ben was toddling down the hallway behind a service droid.

The Awakening – for Ben Solo – it never came.

Her son was not Force-Sensitive.

X.

“I’ll send Poe if I have to.” She intoned, looking at her son from the reflection in her mirror. She watched him card one hand through his hair, working his jaw, looking so much like _Han_ that it made her chest squeeze.

“I’ll go.” He replied. His tone was petulant.

“Then you better get dressed.” Leia turned, shaking her head at Ben’s clothes. His boots and pants were muddied from traversing the jungles of Felucia and she could see the tear on the bicep of his white shirt. He claimed that he and Chewie dropped their payload ‘without incident’, but Leia knew better.

Leia folded her hands in her lap, “This is important, Ben.”

His gaze found hers.

“Aren’t they all?”

She did not miss the bitterness to his tone as he left the room.

X.

Ben _hated_ parties. He hated the politics, the rubbing elbows, the schmoozing laughter, and smiles hidden behind glasses of expensive booze. He lost count of all the meetings and galas that his mother went to during his youth. It never failed to bring back memories of himself – gangly, ears too big, standing beside his mother as she gave a speech about resilience and hope and working together.

The day that Ben learned the truth about his heritage, he climbed aboard the Falcon with Han and Chewie, and promised to never get involved in politics.

Yet, here he was.

 _Kriff_.

And this event was the worst one by far. Everyone was in a mask.

Some were large, whimsical contraptions that curled and fanned outward with dangling parts and mechanisms. He even saw a few that _lit up_. Others were subtle, covering the jaw or the eyes of the wearer, and even a few that covered the side of the face. Ben opted for subtly. His mask was black and covered the upper half of his face.

Chewie made a low, undulating noise and Ben shook his head, “Mutiny happens here just as frequently as it happens in the halls of the Senate.”

He stayed at the sidelines, arms crossed over his chest, watching as the guests danced and flirted and exchanged whispers in darkened alcoves. He felt awkward and out of place – as if he was a thirteen-year-old boy again.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to collect any useful information just standing here. But Ben couldn’t just approach someone. Maybe he should’ve just let Leia send Poe. The man was cocky and grated on his nerves but, he _was_ charismatic. He would fit into this world.

“So,” A lilting, accented voice punctured his thoughts, “Who pissed you off?”

Ben felt his jaw go slack as a woman slid next to him. Her brown hair was styled into three buns behind her head, wispy curls floated near her ear and at the nape of her neck. Her black gown plunged down to the floor, the sleeves transparent mesh decorated in black, sparkling embroidery, and the small gemstones woven in her skirt winked in the lowlight when she turned towards him.

Her elegant golden mask shrouded her face from him, but Ben was certain he would never –in his entire lifetime – forget the color of her eyes. They were green, and gold, and brown and rimmed with dark dramatic kohl. He was reminded of the sunlight pouring through the jungle treetops.

“No one yet.”

She smiled at him.

“I imagine it would be dangerous to get on your bad side?” She asked, sipping daintily from her glass. Ben tried not to stare at her mouth.

“What makes you say that?”

“The blaster hidden in your jacket.”

“Ah,” Ben smirked, “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

That earned a laugh from the mysterious woman. Ben, emboldened by this, shifted closer to her. He liked how she had to crane her neck up to look at him. The rest of the party fell away. It was just him and her and the glass in her hands.

“I can keep a secret if you can.” She said, her eyelashes fluttering.

He leaned down, the pull to her was like gravity. It would be unnatural to try and stop it.

“What’s your secret?”

She finished her drink, glanced at the partygoers still dancing and gossiping around them, and then found his eyes again. She leaned up toward him.

Close enough to whisper.

Close enough to kiss.

“Follow me and find out.”

The entire ballroom goes black.

Ben instinctively grabbed for his blaster as the tone of the music changed and the lighting erupted with a daze of colors and flashing lights. Everyone cheered as the fireworks began to boom outside the large balcony windows.

And Ben was alone.

X.

All it takes is a spark.

That’s the first lesson Ben learns, the Falcon shaking, as he dips the spacecraft and it whips across the tops of the trees.

Chewie roared as the dashboard lights up with warnings –

“Don’t worry,” Ben flipped several switches overhead, “We’ll make it.”

X.

Ben walked down the steep ramp, the hydraulics hissing as it lowers into the mud. He waved his hand in front of the smoke pluming from the ship. Chewie cursed behind him and grumbled about the repairs.

“You could’ve done a cleaner landing, kid.” Han said, shaking his head as he watches his son look almost sheepish.

“I was in a hurry.” Ben shrugged, “Besides, the cargos fine.”

Han scoffed, falling into step beside Ben as they walked to the makeshift campsite. They fell into silence as they walked. The woods were quiet – his landing scared away most of the wildlife. For now. As they approached the Resistance base, Ben could hear the low murmur of voices and the whirring of machinery and beeping of droids.

“Are you sure about this?” Han’s voice, as always, was a little gruff.

“Are you?” He quipped back, raising an eyebrow at his dad.

“No.” The tree line opened to reveal their base, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

The haggard faces of Resistance fighters and pilots looked to him, expectant, and Ben felt the shadow of his legacy looming over him. He ran his thumb along the cool metal of the dice in his pocket and entered the tent to face his mother.

X.

Ben Solo landed on Takodana with supplies for the Resistance.

He’d be leaving Takodana with a mission to bring Luke Skywalker back from Ahch-To. Leia found him, in the Force, and trusted only _her son_ with the information.

He should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy.

X.

His spine slammed against the outcrop of rocks. The pain was sharp. Sweat burned his eyes as he ducked around the cover and scrambled into the protection of the condensed trees surrounding them.

The blaster fire just missed his head and burned a hole in a tree trunk.

Ben lifted his own weapon and fired at the approaching Stormtroopers. He shoved further into the forest. The wild gnarled roots tried to trip him, drooping vines and wet leaves whipped at his face. Still, Ben pushed onward.

He heard fighters crying out – for protection, for cover, for mercy – and then Ben heard _it_.

The electric thrum of a lightsaber.

Ben stood with his chest heaving, his blaster warm in his hand, and he turned his head back toward the base. He could only see the tall trees and lush greenery of the planet around him. His heart thumped in his chest. The blood rushing to his ears.

He saw a flash of white as a Stormtrooper approached.

Ben fired and then did the only thing he could do.

He kept _running_.

X.

“Ben, where are you?” Leia’s voice came over his commlink.

“Are you on the Falcon?” He asked, rather than answering her question. His fingers scrambled for purchase on the bark and he lifted his body with a grunt onto the branch.

“Yes, but—”

“Go.” Ben cut her off, “The Resistance won’t survive without you.”

“Ben!”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan. Just get out of here while you can.” He paused, “Chewie, take care of her.” He flipped his commlink off.

Ben climbed to his feet, holding onto the tree branch above his head to keep his balance. From the high ground, he could see the raided Resistance campsite, crawling with Stormtroopers and other First Order officers.

All it would take is a spark.

Ben lifted his blaster.

“There you are!”

 _That voice_.

The tree branch shook as another person was suddenly standing with him. He opened his mouth to scream, but the darkness enveloped him and dragged him under.

X.

The first thing Ben realized was that he was on a ship.

The second thing he realized was that he was not alone.

She pulled down her dark hood to reveal a face dotted with freckles along her nose and green-gold eyes that made his heart jump into his throat.

“It’s _you_.” He breathed. The masquerade had felt like a lifetime ago. He had searched – in vain – for her after the lights had gone out. He went into every room, every balcony, he weaved along the dancefloor and ducked into shadowed nooks. All for another glimpse of her.

 _Somehow_ , she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Even if every warning bell in his mind was screaming at the implications of her dark robes. She was **not** his ally in this war.

Perhaps a little late, Ben realized that he was restrained.

“You didn’t follow me.”

“I couldn’t _find_ you.”

Her eyes narrowed, “For Vader’s grandson, your powers are surprisingly lackluster.”

Ben swallowed. She didn’t _know_. How did she not know? Anyone who was Force sensitive could feel another – Jedi or Sith. He watched as she stared at him, like he was some puzzle that she was keen to figure out. Her gloved hand lifted to his face and Ben’s back stiffened against the durasteel metal.

She touched his temple, and everything _changed_.

X.

He saw a girl crying in the desert – alone, alone, alone, - so terribly and painfully alone. A whispering voice that feels like death and destruction tells her; _“Rey, it’s alright. I’m with you.”_

He was in the Falcon learning to fly with his father. He felt freedom as the stars trailed by. The hull trembled and his father let out a ‘whoop’ of excitement as they entered hyperspace. Han ruffled his mop of dark hair. Ben wanted to feel this way forever.

The hunger gnawed at her stomach. She doubled over in agony. The voice returned, caressing her hair, _“Come find me, child. I will feed you. I will keep you safe.”_

He was in Chewie’s warm, furry embrace. A lullaby was crooning from the Wookie’s lips as he rocked the bundled baby in his arms. Small, chubby arms lifted and clutched the fur and he gurgled happily. He clung to that same fur, Chewie’s grumble promising him that ‘ _We will be back soon’_. Ben watched the Falcon leave without him. He curled his hands into fists.

The blood filled her mouth. She rolled against the sand, lashing out, feral and savage. The voice – it held a smile when it spoke – “ _Yes, feed into the anger. Let it fuel you.”_

His mother was leaving him to go to an assembly. Her lips were dry as he kissed his forehead. She promised she would return before dinner. He clung to that promise. Ben sat by the window with his chin on his arms, watching as the sunlight dipped and painted the city gold, then orange, then purple and the first stars peeked out from the twilight.

She stood with a staff in her hand. Her heartbeat was loud – but the voice was louder. “ _Good. Good. Strike him once more. Strike him down!”_ He felt the rage coil as she lifted the staff, every muscle taught with murderous intent, and then the staff cracked across the skull of Unkar Plutt.

He was staring at his toys, willing them to do _something_ , to be _special_ like his mother and uncle. He curled into his bed with frustrated tears filling his eyes.

Her small hands drifted across the controls as the ship lowered to the planet. The voice sighed, content and pleased, _“I knew you would find me. My apprentice._ _There is much for us to do…”_

He was tossing and turning in his bunk on the Falcon – the sight of an unknown woman’s hazel eyes staring up at him. _Follow you? Follow you where?_

X.

Rey jerked her hand back with wild, fierce eyes.

When he finally spoke, his voice is low and trembling, “Who are you?”

She stared back at him.

Time stretched between them.

Her lips parted; he could see the question behind her eyes – The ship jolted. An alarm cut into the air and Rey’s mouth curled into a snarl. She spared him one final glance before lifting her hood back over her head and storming out of the room.

X.

His rescue comes in the form of Poe Dameron and an ex-Stormtrooper named Finn.

Poe doesn’t shut up about it for an entire week.

Normally, this would grind at him…but his mind is preoccupied with visions of a lonely girl in the desert and a maelstrom of a woman on the battlefield.

He watches the Holovids of her, spinning her lightsaber staff, her face contorted with rage and triumph.

X.

Ben opened his eyes to see Rey standing across from him. Her hair is loose around her shoulders and she looks… _surprised_ to see him. He blinked and tried to grapple with his surroundings. OK. He’s still on the Falcon.

She’s in front of him.

Somehow.

“Where are you?” She asked. The red silk of her robe slides up her arms as she crosses them.

“On my ship.”

“Alone?”

“Mostly.” His eyes glance to the cockpit where Chewie is guiding them to Luke’s island. If the Wookie can hear him talking to himself, he doesn’t mention it.

Her eyes narrowed, her expression pensive and guarded. “I can’t see your surroundings. Just you. What do you see?”

“Just you.”

Rey chewed her lower lip, brow furrowing, and Ben wants – desperately wants – to reach out. Can he touch her? Will his fingers fall through her like she’s a ghost? _Is she a ghost?_ His instincts tell him that this is something else.

“Rey.” At the sound of her name, her eyes pinned to him.

Instincts are what guide him forward, what makes him reach his hand out, and he realizes he’s never touched her before. The chance always slips through his fingers. He does not want it to slip away again.

His calloused fingertips touch her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she – _Maker, save him_ – she leaned into his touch.

Her voice is soft amidst the rumble of the Falcon’s engine, “Why is the Force connecting us? You and I.”

“I don’t know.”

Her eyes reopen, finding his and holding them. She looked lost.

The connection snapped shut. He was alone. Again.

“Chewie.” He gripped the side of the doorway to the cockpit, “Turn the ship around.”

X.

He met Rey on the battlefield three times after the Force connected them on his ship.

The first time, he avoided making the killing shot with his blaster. He could feel her staring at his back as he ran.

The second time, their ships chased one another through the asteroid belt. Her voice came through his commlink, _“You’re a tease, Ben Solo.”_ She pulled away and returned to her fleet.

The third time, Rey lifted her saber over her head, the snowflakes swirling around her darkened form illuminated by red light. She struck down – but the blade hit the ground beside him. The snow hissed as it evaporated beneath the crackling energy.

Her smile stole his breath from his lungs.

X.

When Han dies, Ben feels it in the Force. It brings him to his knees. His hand clutches his heart and there is nothing – _nothing_ to numb the pain.

It is pure, volatile agony.

His throat goes raw from the scream that is ripped from it. The Force ripples outward. It convulses around him. The pain pulses at the center of his chest. He is vaguely aware that his mother is holding him, but he cannot feel her.

The grief is palpable. It sprawls through the base and no one looks him in the eye. Ben cannot bother to listen to the report of what happened. Because – truly – it doesn’t matter because Han is _gone_. He won’t ever ruffle his hair again or roll his eyes while sharing a joke with Chewie, he won’t be there to help him fix the Falcon, and there’s nothing Ben can do about any of it.

When he collapses into his bunk on the Falcon, he can feel two hands cradling his jaw and a pair of lips on his forehead and a lilting, soft voice; _“I’m here.”_ Rey smells like blood and smoke and Ben wants to drown in it. _In her._ The pain begins to ebb, slowly, like poison being sucked from a wound. Her fingers card through his hair, gentle and tender.

“ _Rey_.” Her name is a rasp torn from the very depths of his heart, “Don’t go.”

“I won’t.” In this – her tone is fierce, “You’re not alone, Ben.”

His eyes are hot and swimming with fresh tears when he chokes the words out; “Neither are you.”

X.

His shoulder crashed into the side of the console as Ben jerked his ship to a hard left, avoiding fire, “Circle back!” He instructed the pilots following him, “The shields are still up!”

The large dreadnought of Rey’s ship loomed ahead of him.

She was there.

He could feel it.

X.

The bottom of his ship sparked as the metal scraped against metal, sliding along the hanger, and smashing into the back wall. His skull knocked backwards, and Ben saw stars. He could hear the heavy footfall of troops as they approached.

“Don’t shoot!” Rey’s voice was a stern, furious command.

Ben jumped down from the cockpit. A trickle of blood ran down his jaw.

“I’ll take him to the Supreme Leader.” She shot a withering glance at the troops around her, “I can’t trust any of **you** to do it.”

X.

“We can end this, Rey.” Ben wished he could touch her. She’s here – in the flesh – not a vision by the Force, not a dream, and not fighting him in humid jungles or frozen wastelands.

“That’s all it takes. We could do it...” He stepped closer, his fists clenched in their restraints, “Together.”

“You don’t _know_ me, Solo.” Her voice is ice. “I brought you here because if anyone can get Skywalker’s location from your mind – it’s _Snoke_.” She grimaced, “That is how we end this war. The death of the last Jedi will extinguish any hope left in this rebellion.”

_No._

Ben clenched his jaw.

“You don’t believe that.” He inhaled, finding his resolve, and holding it tight. Rey stared up at him.

Beautiful.

Impassive.

Unyielding.

X.

He recognized Snoke from nightmares that are not his own.

“Finally, I have longed to look upon your face with my own eyes!” Snoke curled a withered finger and Ben’s feet dragged across the floor, his body lifting. “My apprentice has dreamed of you, Solo.”

His bulbous head swiveled, eyes glaring at Rey – kneeling on the floor – “I told her that you were the grandchild of Vader, but unlike your family, you were nothing more than a pilot. A _scoundrel_ , like your father.” His thin lips pulled into a humorless smile.

“She did not believe me. No. She had to see for herself.” His eyes returned to Ben, “What a disappointment, you must be, to your family. To your Resistance. The Skywalker bloodline. You were destined for greatness…and yet…here you are. At my mercy with _nothing_ – not even a blaster to save you.”

Snoke chuckled. His hand outstretched towards him.

Ben told himself he would not scream when Snoke searched his mind.

The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.

“Hmm.” Snoke dropped him to the ground, “Interesting.” He looked to Rey, “How did you keep this from me?”

“Keep what, Master?”

He rolled onto his side, spitting blood onto the glossy floor.

Snoke’s tone was impatient, “The visions of this _boy_. How is that you’ve been seeing him? A Non-Force user? A nobody?”

“I presumed they were just dreams, Master.” She shrugged. Ben could see her acting nonchalant, her tone bored, but he could feel the weight of her words.

Rey’s body jerked forward. Ben watched – with horror and disgust – as Snoke extended a hand to her.

“Keeping secrets, Rey? Hmm.” Snoke smiled another humorless smile, “I’ve always been with you. Open your mind to me. **Now**.”

He felt revulsion churn in his gut.

_No, no, no, don’t you touch her. Don’t you touch her!_

Ben’s arm shot out to reach for her. He felt the grief of losing Han, the anger at Snoke for violating him and his memories, for manipulating Rey, the loneliness of their childhoods, he felt it all in one powerful surge of emotion –

Lightening struck out from his fingertips and hit Snoke squarely in the chest.

The Awakening rippled through him and his spine to arched, his body curled on the floor as the power flowed through him, elbows bracing his weight to stop himself from collapsing.

When he finally lifted his head, Rey was on one knee, staring at him.

She reached for her belt and tossed him his blaster.

He caught it and rose to his feet just as the guards launched forward to attack. The Force surged around him. Around _them_. It sang with their combined power. Ben had never felt anything like it.

And with Rey beside him…

He never wanted to be anywhere else.

X.

“You’re going to miss the ceremony.” Rey sank into the seat beside him on the Falcon.

He twisted his face into a scowl, “I’m not really one for medals.” Han’s dice dangled from his fingertips, the memories tumbled from his mind, tinged with hurt and of words unsaid.

“I never had the chance to ask…the night we met…what was the secret you wanted to tell me?”

Her sigh was long with her head tilted back and a wistful smile on her face.

“That I dreamed of this ship.”

“Really?” He pocked the trinket, turning his chair to face her.

Rey lifted her head, smiled quickly, and before Ben could process _what_ and _how_ she had moved so fast – she was in his lap.

Her hands cradled his jaw, held his face, “I dreamed of you, Ben.” Her nose brushed against his, “Of a life that was more than survival, more than war and bloodshed…that there was something _more_ than just the darkness…”

Her eyes glistened and Ben knows this is a precious moment. He clamped his mouth shut because he doesn’t want to ruin it, and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“It’s probably a good thing that you didn’t tell me that the night we met.” He teased, “That would’ve been a _terrible_ opening line.”

Rey laughed and then her mouth is on his and her hands are in his hair and Ben’s mind ceases to function.

Tomorrow, they will need to attend negotiations and pick up the pieces of a war-torn galaxy.

Tomorrow, they will need to discuss her future and where it fits in this new world.

Tomorrow, they will need to discover what his Awakening means and what’s next –

But those are problems for _tomorrow_.

Right now, there is only Rey, and she’s smiling against his mouth, and kissing him like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do.

Ben wraps an arm around her and makes a vow against her lips; _“I love you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this in a day because the idea wouldn't LEAVE ME ! No beta. I hope you all enjoy it tho. 
> 
> [ How I imagined Ben ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/04/d5/0f/04d50f56be6935b6c3611ef308221f36.jpg)
> 
> [ Rey's dress ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/d8/63/72/d8637295ec711e93c78b66e6a8b123c0.jpg)


End file.
